The secret Truth about ClichéVille
by RandomMumble
Summary: What happens when things aren't what they're expected to be? That is the secret truth about Cliché-Ville. -Written For Enomix- Happy Birthday, Audrey!
1. Celebro Animus

_To read an illustrated version of this story (it's exactly the same story, just with comic-pictures ;P) go to my Homepage. _

**Title****: **The secret Truth about Cliché-Ville

**Disclaimer****: **No copyright infringements intended! (Disclaimer applies all Chapters)

_**Complete Story Details**__**: **_

**Summary****:** What happens when things aren't what they're expected to be? That is the secret truth about Cliché-Ville. _**For Enomix; Happy Birthday! =)**_

**Language****: **English

**Category:** FanFiction / Books/Movies / Harry Potter

**Timeline:** Who bothers timelines? ;P

**Characters:** OC/Cormac McLaggen

**Genre****: **Adventure / Humour (but don't expect it to be 'Haha'-humorous – just don't take it too seriously ;) )

**Rating****:** K+

**Word Count****:** 8.114

**A/N****:** This story is for the fabulous author and wonderful person **ENOMIX**! (Check out her stories, btw; each one is gorgeous and a great read. You won't regret it; read, read, read! =) ) Happy Birthday, Audrey! It's not quite what I wanted to write for you in the first place, it got a life of its own and turned out quite silly, but I kinda came to like it – I hope you'll enjoy it, too. ;)

_**Chapter Details: **_

**Title Chapter 1****: **Celebro Animus

**Words in Chapter 1****:** 1.375

~*~  
**Part 1: **

**Celebro Animus **

The air was thick with anticipation. No noise was to be heard and the few people in the dreary room all held their breaths. Suddenly there was a low whisper.  
"This is it… if we won't survive this – well, I'd just like to say it was an honour to –"  
"_Would you just finish_," Professor Snape barked at the small crowd of Gryffindors, that was gathering around a kettle. The group twitched and a rascally girl named Yerdua Rafsa took a deep breath before she poured some gooey, black liquid into the steaming brew. A small purple cloud appeared above the kettle and the potion made a gurgling noise; then it stilled again. The group of students jubilated; one was even busy doing a 'thank-the-Gods-dance'.  
"It should have turned blue, not... purple. Now – _silence_!" Snape sneered and turned his back on the quickly silencing crowd.

"Yeah, that was _nice, nice_," Thelma Holmes muttered, trying to see something through the mess, she used to call 'hairstyle' on her head. "Yerry, would you _help_ me," she eventually grunted. Yerdua, who stood on Thelma's right side sighed dramatically and tried half heartedly to free her friend from her own hair.  
"I'd say it's time for a snack," Kenny Markham spoke up cheeringly. And as if on command the bell rang, causing the students to pack their things, clean their messes and eventually rush out of the classroom.

xxx

About half an hour later the three Gryffindors were strolling over the seemingly endless grounds of Hogwarts. Kenny picked dust from a burger and asked absently, "Does anybody have a fork?"  
"Where did you get _that_ from?" Yerry frowned, eyeing the burger suspiciously.  
"It's the magic of the miraculous stomach. A gastric sensation, I'd say," Thelma mused, still messing with her hair.

"I see." Yerry scratched the back of her nose. "Anyway, I thought we could spend the afternoon by the lake?"  
"_Wha phou?_"  
"Excuse me? Ken, it's eating _or_ speaking" Thelma threw the boy a severe gaze – as they suspected – and he swallowed.  
"I'm sorry. So... What for, Yerry? So we can sit there the whole day with you being caught up in some useless scribbling in your notebook – _again_?" He raised an eyebrow at Yerry and took another huge bite of his mysterious burger.  
"None of your business," Yerry replied and stole Kenny's burger, shoving the remaining piece into her mouth and heading for the lake.  
"Hey, that was mine," Kenny cried after her, but she was already out of reach. Next to him Thelma stumbled over a stone – due to her hair-originating-nearly-blindness – but kept walking as if nothing ever happened and said wisely,  
"Too little, too late"  
Kenny threw the girls – or rather his lost burger a last melancholic gaze before he finally decided to follow, grunting.

xxx

'_The dragon Does-Not-Much stood tall before the knight Mighty as he blew a blazing flame through his nostrils'_ Yerry tapped her pencil against her lower lip and gazed up in the air.  
"Who? The dragon or the knight?" Thelma asked as she read the line in Yerry's journal over her shoulder.  
"_What the -?_ Get away from me! So, _this_ you _can_ see, huh?" Yerry grabbed her journal and closed it noisily, apparently angry with her friend for reading it without permission.

"Alright, I'm sorry. Don't freak out," Thelma said, swiftly holding up her hands in a defensive motion.  
"Yeah, sure," Yerry said sarcastically. In a low, reluctant voice she added, "The dragon. ...of _course_"

Yerry wasn't exactly afraid of criticism from her friends. She would let them read her story; but there was a huge chance that they would find out about her secret. The identity of the knight Mighty...  
Her eyes wandered over the meadow absently and got caught by the shining silhouette of a well-known – and quite dreaded boy.  
"_Bwaha_, look at that. McLaggen and his fan club" Kenny chuckled and pointed at Cormac McLaggen who was surrounded by a bunch of pretty, or rather pretty brainless girls.  
"_Ha_, oh, yes, didn't see that. What a – _pfff_..." Yerry ran a hand through her long hair and blushed a little. Noticing her friends' bewildered expressions she quickly changed the subject. "What about this Transfiguration homework? Got it done by now?" She looked from Thelma to Kenny and back, an overly friendly smile on her lips.  
"Well, _nah_, not yet," Kenny replied, still not entirely convinced of Yerry's all-too-cool exterior, but getting distracted by the meaning of his own words. "_Ugh_, the class is tomorrow morning, right?" He took a thick, partially rotten book from his backpack and dropped it on the ground. The loud thud pulled Thelma from her thoughts and she frowned.  
"Ken, don't you know that it's more effective to work in privacy – without any distraction, I mean" She blinked through the curtain of hair, that was covering most parts of her face.  
"You just don't want to be the only one who hasn't got anything better to do," Kenny replied knowingly.  
"Either way..." She shrugged before she turned to Yerry, who was already back into writing. "At least... let me help you," Thelma said smirking as she pulled the pencil from Yerry's hand.  
"_Hey!_"  
"Don't make a fuss. – Get going, Kenny," Thelma said and tossed the pencil to the boy, who had by now a dumbfounded look on his face. He shrugged helplessly and Thelma sighed. "_My_, you need some random object for the assignment. Now say your line"  
"And what would that be?" Kenny stared at her, not even blinking.  
"Do I have to do everything for you?"  
"You've got no idea yourself, right?" Yerry grinned as she grabbed for the book. "Who wrote this?" She searched some pages, a deep frown on her forehead.  
"Thelma, lemme tell you, if you wouldn't spend so much time in front of some mirror, doing whatever you're doing then – I honestly can't guess; you always look like you just fell out of bed anyway – then you woul- _OW!_" Kenny cried out, rubbing the sore spot on his shoulder. On the skin, under his shirt was a bluish-yellowish imprint of Thelma's fist appearing. "Killjoy"

"Okay, I admit, I can't find anything in here... Maybe if we try that one. It sounds – uh – _fitting_?" Yerry titled her head and gazed at page 394.  
"What was the assignment again?" Kenny asked irritated.  
"Something with 'bringing things to life with... _blaaah_' can't remember," Thelma mumbled, now looking through a gap as she parted the mass of hair before her eyes with both hands.  
"Yeah, well, whatever, just like I said. – Now, try this one" Yerry pointed enthusiastically at the page.

"Okay... give it to me. ...is that an '_a'_? – an '_o'_, oh, okay" Kenny cleared his throat noisily. He took his wand from his pocket and touched its tip to the pencil. In a cryptic voice he recited, "_Celebro Animus!_"  
All three held their breaths and stared expectantly at the pencil. Nothing happened.  
"Well, that was a fail," Thelma declared smiling like she'd told them so before.

About an hour and a few minutes later Kenny had managed to bring a tissue partially to what the three of them liked to call '_alive'_ – actually he just got it floating a little, but none bothered to accept it as a great success as all wanted to have dinner. ...and that's that.

xxx

This night, when Yerry lay still awake in her bed – trying to not lose patience with Thelma snoring energetically in the bed above her – she didn't pay attention to her nightstand on which her wand, and her old journal lay and next to it the pencil on which Kenny had tried to perform his homework.  
Eventually Yerry got overwhelmed by sleep, even though Thelma's snoring could have woken a whole bunch of giants under the influence of tranquilizers.  
Only seconds later the pencil began to rattle in its place and glow mysteriously. Suddenly it jumped up and hopped over the nightstand. Swiftly the pencil scribbled '_Lumos'_ on the white wooden tabletop and the wand obeyed, a soft light spreading from its tip.  
With one swift motion of the surprisingly agile pencil the journal opened and the pencil scribbled itself into a frenzy that lasted the whole night until the sun had risen.


	2. Hogsmeade Weekend

**Title Chapter 2****: **Hogsmeade Weekend

**Words in Chapter 2****:** 1.813

**Part 2: **

**Hogsmeade Weekend **

On Friday morning Yerry was still peacefully asleep, a vivid dream busying her resting mind when the bright morning sun tickled her nose softly. The girl turned in her bed and cuddled a little deeper into the sheets. Suddenly she noticed through her still closed eyelids the change from light to dark and lazily she opened one eye.  
With a loud shriek she found a hairy monster only a mere centimetre apart staring at her intensely.  
"_Cousin Itt?_" Yerry asked dizzily.  
"_We're late, wake up_," the hair-mess nearly screamed.  
"I _am_ awake," Yerry growled and pushed Thelma's head away.  
In an amazingly short minute Yerry was dressed and ready to head for the Great Hall to grab some breakfast. She turned to her nightstand and took her wand to store it in her pocket. As she grabbed for her journal and pencil she paused. The small book lay open and the pencil really needed to be sharpened. She took it and smelled at the pencil's tip, wrinkling her nose at the slight, burnt stench.  
"Will you _hurry_!" Thelma interrupted Yerry's musings as she reached for her upper arm and pulled her out of the girls' sleeping chamber.

Kenny was already neatly seated at the Gryffindors' table in the Great Hall when the girls stormed in.  
He just wanted to guide a fork with too much food on it – of which everybody wondered how he did it – to his mouth when he felt a rough pull on his shoulder. The fork went flying through the air and all Kenny could see before he got dragged out of the room was Yerry picking up several baps and taking an enormous gulp from a large can.

"Really, what's _one_ more minute? I'm starving," Kenny complained while Yerry handed him and Thelma baps.  
"I wonder how you can be so skinny. I can't recall a single occasion when you weren't hungry," Yerry mumbled, stuffing a bap into her mouth greedily.  
"You say it - _hungry_... Maybe I would gain some weight if you weren't either stealing my food or dragging me away from it," Kenny replied, giving both the girls an accusing glare, but biting into the offered food nonetheless.

xxx

When they eventually heard the bell ring after their last class of this day – in the first, which was transfiguration Kenny had failed miserably; of course – the three stormed out on the grounds; like almost every other day.

"_Hogsmeade weekend_," Yerry cheered in a sing-sang voice as she hopped through the green grass.  
"Have you got your permissions to go? My Mom didn't sign it yet. I sent Zoomer, but he's not back yet," Kenny murmured, roaming through his backpack, searching for something to eat.

Zoomer was Kenny's owl – not a very good one, though; the last time he had sent him, he had crashed into the wall of his room – not into a closed window – what would have been comprehensible; but into the massive brick wall.  
"Don't worry. I'm sure he'll bring you the permission in time," Thelma said with an assuring smile on her lips. As she turned to Yerry, however, she made a face and mouthed the words, 'He's so out of it'  
Yerry waggled her head, smirking and took her journal out of her bag.

The friends spent almost three hours sitting in their favourite spot. In this time Yerry wrote more than any other day – although she wasn't quite sure when she'd written that last chapter...  
When the skies began to darken with grey clouds and a single raindrop fell directly on Yerry's head she looked up and narrowed her eyes. "I think we should go inside"  
"Yeah, it's already time for dinner anyway," Kenny agreed and the three gathered their belongings.  
"Thelma, that's a stick – go, see a barber." Yerry shook her head desperately.

xxx

This night went by just like the night before.  
The pencil ordered Yerdua's wand to give off light and scribbled till it was smoking.

xxx

Saturday morning Yerry was up even before the sun had completely risen. – And if she hadn't been still a little drowsily she would have seen the pencil jumping on her wand and then lying down beside it as if nothing ever happened.

"Thelma, get up," Yerry ordered happily and pulled on her friend's forearm.  
"Mmph... _nah_... hmph-_aaah_!" Thelma was suddenly wide awake as she got pulled out of her comfortable bed and hit the floor painfully.

"Let's get going," Yerry said, still a large smile plastered on her face. She held up Thelma's pants and sweatshirt. The grumpy girl grabbed the clothing and dressed herself, murmuring something incomprehensible under her breath. Yerry betted it was something nasty.

xxx

As the students were gathered at the entry of Hogwarts they all wanted to be the first to hand Filch their permission-notes. Only Yerry and Thelma stayed back and scanned the area impatiently.  
"I told you he wouldn't come," Thelma said, pointing a finger in some random direction, hoping for the best.  
"Who knows, maybe that kinky owl made it. – _Thelma_, he does _not_ live in the Whomping Willow." Yerry adjusted Thelma's outstretched hand so it pointed into the right direction.  
"Anyway, I want to get going. Filch won't let us pass if we're too late," Thelma replied running a hand through her hair and getting stuck.

Suddenly Kenny appeared in front of them, panting. "Hey, sorry I'm late. Zoomer just came back a minute ago" He smiled at the girls and held up a scrambled piece of paper.  
"Good, shall we?" Yerry asked and placed her palms on her friends' backs to guide them to the entry.

"_Permissions,_" Argus Filch barked at them and Yerry and Kenny held up their notes. Only Thelma was still busy, freeing her fingers from her carnivorous hairdo. Yerry reached into Thelma's pocket, pulled out her permission and handed it to Filch.  
Grunting the aging man allowed them to pass.

"_Three Broomsticks_?" Yerry asked.  
"Where?"  
The girls turned to Kenny disbelievingly, who looked back at them questioningly. "Oh, the _pub_. Sure, yeah, of course."  
Shaking her head Thelma leant over to Yerry and murmured, "There were times when I used to worry..."  
"The good ole times," Yerry sighed shrugging and both paced after the oblivious boy.

As they entered the _Three Broomstic_ks they found it filled with people to no extend. It was a miracle when they actually snatched a lounge. Kenny blushed immediately as his gaze got caught by the pleasing sight of Madam Rosmerta.  
"Mada- Excuse m-" Kenny tried to call her to their table, but she was too busy with a bunch of drunken wizards. With a wave of her hand Madam Rosmerta ordered her new trainee, who was currently singing – horribly, but at the top of her lungs – that she's got a mustang, to take care of the students.  
The shaggy blonde emerged the crowd and came to Kenny's side. She pulled a pencil from behind her ear and a writing pad from her apron.  
Kenny eyed her, not very pleased. Her name tag read 'Allebasi Regit' and she was in no way a comparison to Madam Rosmerta.  
When Kenny didn't order she turned to face the girls, throwing them a questioning gaze. Suddenly her face lit up a bit. "Rafsa, right? How are you? How's your leg doing?"  
Yerry smiled back and nodded her head as she said, "Better. Could we get three butter beers?"  
"Sure; this one's on the house," the waitress said. As she noticed Madam Rosmerta glaring at her she quickly corrected herself, "_Err_... on me, I meant to say." And with that she turned to get their order – and tripped over a drunken witch, lying on the ground. "I'm okay," she declared loudly. She looked around. Everybody was staring at her. Putting on a calm facade she said to herself, aloud, "Nobody saw it, I'm still the coolest." She pointed at the nearest bewildered person, winked and clicked her tongue before she vanished somewhere in the crowd.  
"Wicked... who was that?" Thelma frowned – or at least Yerry supposed she was frowning under her hairy curtain.  
"The sister of some Slytherin from our year. I met her when I was waiting for the Hogwarts Express last year – she didn't see me and hit my leg with her brother's suitcase. No big deal – but it was pretty painful...," Yerry explained, absently rubbing a small scar on her left shin.  
"Anyway, here is my to-do-list for today. I'd like to check it with you so we can –" Thelma's plans for the day slipped Yerry's attention as she pulled her journal from her bag and placed it on the table before her. Carefully opening it she was surprised to find there was only one empty page left.  
"I should pay more attention," she mumbled to herself and read over the last few lines. They seemed very unfamiliar. "I must have written that yesterday" She shrugged and searched her bag for her pencil when suddenly her eyes caught sight of a certain Gryffindor boy entering the pub.

Cormac McLaggen strode easily through the filled room until he and his dumbfounded female companion reached an empty table. And of course this table was just next to the one Yerry and her friends were sitting at.

"Oh, look who's joining the fun; _McAlmighty_." Thelma chuckled and poked Yerry in the side. Yerry nodded and grinned, too; nervously stealing a glimpse at the boy.  
"Yeah, McAl- _huh_?"

As Yerry looked over at McLaggen once again she found him staring back at her and winking. She blushed and removed her attention from him immediately.  
"Fool," she murmured before she turned back to her work.

Yerry leant over her journal and silently she read the last paragraph again,

'_The knight Mighty attacked the dragon Does-Not-Much and overpowered it with one swift motion.  
The Dragon Does-Not-Much was defeated and the villagers were freed; all thanks to their hero, the knight Mighty. He put his sword away and knelt down on the dead body of the dragon. From the high tower the Princess Helplesley waved with a tissue and sighed deeply.  
"Oh, princess Helplesley, will you give me your hand in marriage?"  
The princess sighed even louder and cried happily, "Knight Mighty, I would love to"  
And they lived happily ever after.'_

Yerry frowned. She shook her head and muttered, "Crap"  
"Huh?" Kenny looked up from his butter beer.  
"Nothing... nothing at all," Yerry answered and smiled.  
Grunting reluctantly she scribbled under the paragraph,  
'_The End_'  
And as her hands reached for the journal to put it close, all of a sudden everything went still.

Yerry herself felt like she was moving in slow motion, but the celebrating people around her were entirely frozen.  
"_What's going on?_" She turned her gaze back to the journal; just in time to see it glow in a bright, white light, swiftly consuming everything within reach.


	3. ClichéVille

**Title Chapter 3****: **Cliché-Ville

**Words in Chapter 3****:** 2.145

~*~  
**Part 3: **

**Cliché-Ville **

Slowly Yerry awoke in the blinding sunlight. Feeling extremely dizzy she sat up and covered her eyes. As she touched a trembling hand to her stomach she was surprised to feel a rather rough fabric under her palm.  
Looking down on herself Yerry couldn't believe her eyes – actually she just didn't want to. But it was real.  
The rascally Gryffindor was clad in some linen dress that looked like it was from a long bygone century. As she ran a hand through her hair she involuntarily pushed on some object which was resting on the top of her head. Carefully she took it off and examined it.  
It was a tiara and observing her surroundings Yerry suddenly recognized the little village she was placed into for some reason.  
"_Oh no_"

"Yerry? Is that you?" A weak voice reached Yerry's ears and from the corner of her eyes she saw Thelma, about six meters away, slowly getting up.  
"Yeah, it's me. Are you okay?" Yerry asked and got up herself.  
Thelma nodded, not quite sure how to handle the situation. She too was clad in an old linen dress, just hers looked much cheaper. Suddenly Yerry widened her eyes and she roamed her hands over the linen dress. Eventually she sighed and pulled her wand out of her cleavage. "Got yours?" She asked, nodding into Thelma's direction.  
The other girl too searched her dress and she too pulled out her wand, holding it up demonstratively.  
"Where _are_ we? Why do we look like we've just escaped a medieval pageant? And why is your dress nicer than mine?" Thelma crossed her arms in front of her chest. Strangely enough her hair was still a mess and covering most parts of her face, while Yerry's was neatly combed and well done.  
"I suppose we're in _Cliché-Ville_," Yerry suggested, looking around a little desperately.  
"Yeah,_ Cliché-Ville_. Ha" Thelma chuckled. "No, really. Where the heck are we?"  
"I told you. I think we're in... in my story. And if I'm right, then this is _Cliché-Ville_. I assume I'm the _princess Helplesley _and you could be the _maid Uselesley_."  
"_Princess Helplessly_?" Thelma raised a brow at Yerry and smirked.  
"Help_lesley_ – but yeah, it's '_Cliché-Ville'_ – don't you get it?" Yerry put her hands on her hips and titled her head, a frown appeared on her forehead. "If I'm not hallucinating due to Butter Beer intoxication... we _have_ to find a way to get home somehow"

"_Ooaah_"  
"What was that?" Thelma jumped at the sudden noise. Behind the girls Kenny had just woken up and was now holding his head as if he feared it would fly away if he'd let go of it.  
"The _lad Eats-A-Lot_," Yerry said.  
"Adequate"  
"Funny, girls... what's goin- _Bwahaha_! What are _you_ looking like?" Kenny fell back on the ground laughing. However he quickly silenced himself and went on holding his head and moaning.  
"You look no better," Yerry growled annoyed.

As soon as all three had recovered from the shock, they were strolling down the main road of _Cliché-Ville_. They got to a shaggy hut, a small sign in front of the door read '_The Shameless Rear_'  
"Charming," Thelma commented and Yerry just shrugged.

The group entered the hut and on its inside it was even less attractive than on its outside. As they sat down at the bar Yerry carefully hid her tiara under her blouse. The waitress, a woman in a most disgusting, quillings-overloaded dress turned slowly around, mumbling reluctantly, "What can I do for y- _you!_"  
Yerry backed away just in time before Allebasi Regit could reach her over the counter.  
Some of the few people in the medieval pub turned their heads. Even when the waitress had calmed down and Yerry had returned to her place at the bar the oblivious people kept staring – it was very unusual; no, it was extremely unlikely that a _woman_ attended this bar; and then _two women_!  
"What? Why don't you make a xylography?" The waitress grunted and smoothened out her dress.  
"Yeah, whatever. How comes that you're aware of this being... _not normal?_" Yerry asked carefully as not to raise suspicion.  
"Don't know... guess, I'm too –"  
"_Weird_?" Kenny whispered to Thelma but the woman behind the bar had heard him and he blushed.  
"Anyway, I don't know how you did it, but I know it _has_ to be _your_ fault," Allebasi said pointing at Yerry. "_Hm_... I would say this could be a hexed story. I did this once, accidentally; when I wanted to control my dreams. Unfortunately it turned out as an '_alternated reality_' – too stupid of me; accidentally hexing a pencil. How dumb can one be, _eh_! _Ha_." She laughed slightly.  
"Yeah. _Ha._" Realisation hit Yerry and she grinned widely to look innocent – Kenny got it too and tried to copy her.  
"Hey, what about the day when Kenny tried to hex Yerry's p-" Thelma's suggestion got cut off as Yerry and Kenny both clasped their hands over her mouth. Eventually something in Thelma's brain under the mass of hair made _click_ and she hushed herself, hiding inconspicuously behind her friends.

Before Allebasi could notice the change in their exterior Yerry tried to distract her, "That's a – _err_ – _nice_ dress"

xxx

Suddenly everything went still again and Yerry expected already a new change in everything, but then she noticed her friends and the waitress looking around, puzzled.  
"_Hello_-_ou_?" Yerry spoke up, but as soon as the sound had escaped her throat all the men in the pub turned to them and threw them scolding glances.  
The door swung open and out of the blinding sunlight outside stepped a shimmering figure.  
It was a knight in shining armour, with a strange red feather on his helmet and an impressive sword on his left hip. As he stepped up to the bar and lent forward he shoved the silvery ventail of his helmet up to reveal his handsome face.  
"The _knight Mighty_," Yerry explained to her friends in a whisper. At the low noise the knight Mighty turned to the small group and all three gasped in surprise; even Yerry, who could have known, actually.  
"_McLaggen?_" Kenny choked out in shock and Thelma nearly fell off her seat. Yerry was completely frozen and just stared at the boy, mouth wide open.  
"Oh, sh-sh-shame on me!" The girl breathed and tried hard to gain back her ability to move.  
"Ah! _Fair maidens_. Do never worry, milady. I am certainly used to womenfolk fainting in my breathtaking presence," Cormac showed a broad, confident smile; baring his perfect white teeth. Thelma and Kenny both started at Yerry, unwillingly to process this new turn of events.  
"Don't look at me; that's not how _I_ wrote it," she snapped at them, defending herself; although that was not exactly true.

"Hey, you," Yerry said as she turned back to the waitress. "What's your name again? Basi?" Thelma chuckled.  
"Hehe. Bessie is a cow name," she whispered in a sing-sang voice.  
"How did you solve your dream-problem?" Yerry asked referring to the incident similar to this one the waitress had mentioned earlier.  
"Not at all... to be honest," Basi answered matter-of-factly. "It all played out and as soon as the story was entirely told it simply ended."  
Yerry was just about to turn to her friends and start a discussion on how to end the story swiftly when she felt a hand on her lower back.  
"Milady, you look familiar. Don't I know you?" Cormac McLaggen in the armour of the knight Mighty bent over to her.  
"I don't think so," Yerry replied dryly, removing Cormac's hand from her back.  
"We should change that, then," Cormac said seductively, leaning closer towards Yerry, but she simply hopped off of her seat and in doing so she caused Cormac to fall, face first, to the ground.  
"Okay, let's see now. How do we get out of here?" Yerry asked, rubbing her hands together.

"It's a satiric story on Cliché-Ville, where everything is what people expect of it; with few exceptions...," Yerry started to explain her story. Thelma frowned.  
"And what in particular are we supposed to do now? I mean... what's the plot?" She blew some hair out of her face – not very effectively.  
"It's all about clichés. The knight Mighty, who has to rescue the princess Helplesley and defeat the Dragon Does-Not-Much. Speaking off..." Yerry turned around at the sound of screaming women and crying children outside the pub.  
As if on command Cormac jumped up, held up his sword and spoke solemnly, "Don't be afraid, fair Cliché-Ville, your knight in shining armour is here. And as for us" He faced Yerry and smiled slyly. "I'm sure you shall be impressed at how mighty I am. We should get _involved_ when I'm back." He bent down to steal a kiss from her, but Yerry ducked away in time.

Outside a huge, green dragon wandered through the village and blew little smoke-clouds out of his nostrils. A nearby standing woman fainted. As the dragon walked past a house there was suddenly muffled laughter to be heard. The dragon turned around and saw how a little girl pointed at his wings – which were in the shape and colour of small butterfly-wings.  
Some meters away Yerry shrugged and addressed her friends as she said, "few exceptions, like I said."

The three turned to Cormac expectantly.  
"What?" he asked dumbfounded.  
"Aren't you supposed to fight the dragon?" Thelma spoke up uncertainly.  
"What for?" Cormac repied. "I'm only fighting when there's a princess to watch me. You know, I defeat a dangerous dragon – the princess faints and sighs – we live happily ever after."  
The three students frowned and observed him.  
"Is he serious?" Kenny asked in a low whisper.  
"Guess so... hey – _uhm_ – _ye mighty kni-highty_," Thelma lilted.  
"It's _knight Mighty_," Cormac corrected her.  
"Sure" Thelma tiptoed over to Yerry and pulled the hidden tiara out of her blouse and placed it on her head. "Oh my, look at _that_, knight Mighy, it's the princess Helplesley." Yerry widened her eyes and gasped in shock.  
In no time Cormac's expression changed and he grinned widely at Yerry. "Never say die, my love! Your hero is here to protect – _the beautiful princess Helplesley and the innocent villagers_ – and defeat – _the dragon Does-Not-Much_," he cried out and marched towards the dragon. When the dragon turned to the knight a deep, earth-shaking growl sounded through the air. From this perspective the dragon Does-Not-Much looked rather threateningly and more like a dragon Kills-Quite-Quick.  
The knight Mighty paled immediately and lowered his sword.  
"What?_ Fight him!_" Yerry stepped up to McLaggen and pushed him forward.  
"You know, I'm actually a great supporter of this new trend; _emancipation_," Cormac muttered, shoved the sword into Yerry's hands and took flight, hiding behind her skirt.

Anew a loud growl echoed and Yerry paled as she told the others, "I think running would be a good idea for now."  
Yerry, Kenny, Thelma and Cormac all began to race to the closest hiding place.  
"You are supposed to fight! You knight _Swizz_!" Yerry growled under her breath.  
"It's _knight Migh_-" Cormac silenced as the glares of both girls and the lad pierced him.

"What's going on here?" Nobody had seen Basi, the waitress sneak up to them.  
"Uhm – _dragon_!" Thelma suggested, pointing in a general direction. Yerry adjusted her arm.  
"Saw that. I mean, why are you guys hiding here?" Basi asked and looked at them expectantly.  
"Go ahead," Cormac replied ironically and gestured towards the green monster. Shrugging Basi got up, stepped into the dragon's view and pulled out her wand.

"_Expecto Patronum_," she shouted over the noise of the still screaming and laughing villagers and a silvery hyena emerged her wand. The hyena took a few steps towards the dragon and as he turned around and grunted, the patronus cackled madly and then took flight.  
"_So helpful_," Thelma commented dryly and Basi shrugged, rushing behind a nearby bush.

"Okay, since nobody seems to be of any help," Yerry stated, giving each of the others a grimly look. "_Ugh_, so it's going to be a Do-It-Yourself job." She stood up and with Cormac's sword she shortened her long skirt to gain some agility. A high-pitched whistle sounded through the air – coming from Cormac – but everybody ignored it and watched intrigued as Yerry rushed out of their hiding place. "Hey! _Here, kitty-kitty_," she shouted and waggled her hips daringly, the sword safely in her grip and pointing threateningly at the dragon.

The dragon Does-Not-Much blew another smoke-cloud out of his nostrils and strolled over to Yerry.  
The usually quite dauntless Gryffindor girl found herself facing a huge, dangerous dragon that was able to breathe fire and heavy enough to crush five houses at once.  
_"Oh oh..."_


	4. Help yourself, Princess!

**Title Chapter 4****: **Help yourself, Princess!

**Words in Chapter 4****:** 1.321

~*~  
**Part 4: **

**Help yourself, Princess! **

"_Now_ would be a good time to do something," Thelma whispered from behind a tree as Yerry stood frozen in front of the dragon.  
Threateningly slowly the dragon stepped closer and Yerry felt her legs tremble a little. Just a mere second before the huge monster had reached her Yerry jumped to the dragon's side in one catlike motion and stuck the sword into the dragon's foot.

"_OWWW!_"

"Did you hear that? I could swear that thing just said '_ow'_," Kenny said to Thelma as they watched the scene, playing before their eyes.

In the middle of the marketplace Yerry pulled the sword out of the dragon's foot.  
"_Yeah_ – uh huh! Yeah, you see? That's what happens when you mess with a New Age princess," Yerry exclaimed and nodded enthusiastically.  
"What was _that_ for?" The dragon suddenly asked and rubbed its foot.  
"You attacked m- ...Did you just _speak_?" Yerry lowered the sword and narrowed her eyes.

"Yes... how about you?"

"Oh great, Yerry came up with a sarcastic monster. Well, _surprise, surprise_..." Thelma yawned dramatically and titled her head.  
The dragon faced the two hiding students and grunted, "I have a _name_."  
Yerry frowned and asked, "Okay, what _is_ your name?" The dragon turned its attention back to her.  
"Hank"  
"_Hank?_"  
"Yes, _Hank_. Any problems with that?" He raised an eyebrow at Yerry – that is, if he would have had eyebrows.  
"No, _no_, that's fine. It's a nice name," she answered quickly and nodded hastily.

"And I didn't _attack_ you," Hank huffed, petting his hurt foot.  
"You did!" Yerry grunted back, crossing her hands in front of her chest.  
"No. I just walked towards you. I'm a _pacifist_, you foolish broad."  
Yerry gasped and narrowed her eyes. "You... _you_... Well, why did you growl at the knight in the first place if you never meant any harm?" She asked suspiciously, deciding to ignore the insult.  
"I didn't _growl_," the dragon Does-Not-Much replied. "That was my belly. I'm pretty hungry"  
"_Hear ye!_" Kenny spoke up, stepped out of his hiding place and nodded at the dragon

"The people here know me; I come round every two weeks." Hank explained the general situation.  
"That's true," a busty woman said as she stepped through the backdoor of the '_Shameless Rear_'. It was Madam Rosmerta, in the clothing of a woman from the Middle Ages. Apparently she too had no clue who she actually was. "Hank always orders a drink," she said and gestured to the pub. "Drinks it and sits out here for a while. Then he leaves again."  
Thelma frowned as she too stepped up to the small group of people and the dragon. She cleared her throat before she said, "That's all he does?"  
Yerry sighed and waved her hands in the air. "Well, what did you expect? – from the dragon _Does-Not-Much!_" She shook her head nonchalantly. "And what was all the _screaming_ and _crying_ and _laughing_ about?" she went on irritated.  
"Putting up a good show for tourists," Madam Rosmerta replied shrugging.  
"Ah, sure. Of course," Kenny said and nodded as if it was obvious.

"Now, my fair princess, I think it is time to kiss your hero," Cormac spoke up, self-confidently, as he stepped out from behind Yerry.  
"_Hero_? _I_ think you need professional help" She pushed him away to prevent a sloppy kiss.

xxx

"What is it, Yerry?" Thelma asked, parting the hair-curtain before her view. Yerry was staring off into the air as if in deep thought.  
"In the actual story the knight Mighty killed the dragon Does-Not-Much. That didn't happen; and we're still here. I think that means we're not through with this." Yerry titled her head and put her hands on her hips.  
"Oh, _really_?" Basi, the waitress said as she climbed out of a nearby bush.  
"Maybe Cormac should just kill the dragon – sorry, I mean, _Hank_?" Kenny suggested. The dragon frowned and backed away a little.  
"_Me?_ No. Uhm... Not that I wouldn't _love_ to do that, it's just... just...," Cormac stuttered, looking around desperately.  
"What for? Apparently Hank is no threat. No, there has to be another way. One where we're not forced to kill each other," Yerry mused

xxx

For about half an hour the friends discussed their possibilities; together with Cormac, who still wasn't back to himself and absently trying to trick Yerry into kissing him; Basi, who wasn't of much help as she went back to singing that she's got a mustang; and Hank, to whom they had explained their miserably situation. Surprisingly Hank was quite the clever dragon, his ideas didn't exactly solve their problem, but at least he did his best and that was more than what the rest of the dream-team did.  
At first they had tried to include some smart-looking villagers into their discussion; but those had stormed off, screaming for a pyre to be prepared. Luckily the witches and the wizard could prevent them from actually doing so by manipulating their memories – only one villager wasn't that lucky; Hank took care of him. Don't get it wrong! As a pacifist Hank refused any kind of violence, so he'd just pulled the man to his chest and tried to convince him to keep his mouth shut – the villager had agreed; not exactly willingly, though – he'd simply fainted.

"Dear princess, a kiss might solve all your problems," Cormac, lately also known as knight Mighty told Yerry. The girl sighed and gave him _a look_.  
Thelma tapped on Kenny's arm and said, "Hey, Yerry, why can't we just put another spell on the whole thing and hex ourselves back into reality?"  
From behind her Yerry answered, "No, Sherlock. Don't you know that it's a bad idea to hide magic with magic?"  
"Your eyes are magic," Cormac breathed into her ear. Nobody paid attention to him.  
"Maybe if I had the hexed pencil I could write us out of this, huh?" Yerry shrugged her shoulders and gazed at the others expectantly.  
"Maybe... but you don't have the pencil," Kenny said.  
"What if you bewitch a new one?" Hank suggested.  
"That puts us back to Thelma's idea. Magic over magic – _uh-uh_." Yerry leant back in the grass and looked up at the sky. The sun was already setting. As if the change in position was the knight Mighty's command he shifted to Yerry's side and put an arm around her shoulder.  
"What the -? Get away from me," the girl hissed and tried to fight off his arm.  
"Just one kiss, my beautiful princess. So we can be happy ever after," Cormac inquired and tried to keep his arm in place.  
Kenny chewed on a piece of straw, but Thelma and Basi exchanged meaningful looks.  
"Yerry... maybe that's not such a bad idea at all," Thelma said.  
"Maybe a kiss _will_ solve all your problems," Basi added, grinning.  
Yerry frowned at them and shook her head no. "_Certainly_ not."  
"Don't you get it?" Thelma reached out for Yerry's hand, but grabbed Hank's claw. The dragon frowned, but let the girl with the strange hairstyle pet his claw, however.

"_Oh!_ Yes," Yerry breathed as realization hit her. "The knight _always_ kisses the princess; they live happily ever after and... The End!" She nodded and tipped her finger against her lower lip. "Yeah, that's it!" but as soon as she understood the full impact of her own words she made a face and stared at Cormac, who was still snuggling up to her.

Kissing Cormac McLaggen wasn't the worst thing a girl could imagine. But this particular, stupid, annoying version of him was just too much.  
Usually Yerry would have kept her cool exterior and agreed to kiss Cormac – pretending that it meant nothing to her; but now she really didn't want to. This was not the real Cormac! This was the caricature of an almighty prince, who really was but a whiny, clingy coward.  
No, she wouldn't do it... now, would she?


	5. Happy End and all that, right?

**Title Chapter 5****: **Happy End and all that, right?

**Words in Chapter 5****:** 1.460

~*~  
**Part 5: **

**Happy End and all that, right? **

"I'm sorry, but you can't back out of this, Yerry," Thelma said, trying to convince her friend.  
For the past half hour Thelma, Kenny and Basi had tried to talk Yerry into eventually kissing the knight, but she simply refused without an accurate explanation.

How could they know Yerry's reason to not kiss this distorted Cormac-version? How could they ever guess that their beloved friend, whom they knew since their very first day at Hogwarts had a secret crush on the boy they usually used to make fun off?

Before anyone could say another word Hank suddenly made a face like he had just bitten into a lemon. "_Aaah.._."  
"Are you alright?" Yerry asked.  
"_Aaaaaa-_"  
"What _is_ it?" The girl cried out impatiently.  
"_ACHOO!"_ Hank sneezed – and you can imagine, when a dragon about the size of a skyscraper (not that anyone in _Cliché-Ville_ has ever heard of skyscrapers) sneezes; well, it's not a nice picture...

"I'm so sorry; I must have caught a cold," Hank said apologizing.  
"_Eww!_" Thelma tried to free herself from all the disgusting, green dragon-snot-slime without touching it too much. As she turned around she saw Kenny lying face down in a huge puddle. "Oh my God! They killed Kenny!"  
"_You bastards!_" Yerry held up a fist and frowned. When a gargling noise came from Kenny she went over to him and pulled him out of the puddle. He choked. "Oh, no, no... no, he's fine," Yerry said and dropped him again. "But I'm not... Ew, Hank, really!"

xxx

Dragon-snot turned out to be incredibly persistent. Yerry stood a little away from the others and was busy rubbing it off of her left forearm when Hank came to her side. At the sound of his voice she jumped a little – Hank was mysteriously good at sneaking up to people.  
"_Yerry_, right?" Hank asked as he sat down next to her and tried to help her clean her dress.  
"Yes," she simply replied.  
"So... what is it with you and the knight Swizz... knight _Mighty_ of course." He winked at her and she smirked.  
"I don't know what you're referring to," Yerry answered, avoiding his gaze.  
"A kiss is something very private, but... that's not the whole story, huh?"  
Totally taken aback Yerry looked up and glanced over her shoulder to check if anybody else was listening before she answered stubbornly, "That's none of your business."  
"Of course not. But you see; I'm used to this reality. I lived here my entire life – although I cannot _exactly_ remember anything before your appearance. Guess this has to do with our life here being but a story written by you. Anyway, I think highly of my life; of these people" He gestured randomly at the villagers. "And our story. It didn't play out the way it was supposed to be, but it worked, however. Now, there's just one thing missing." He went silent and scratched a small stain from Yerry's skirt.  
The girl sighed and asked, "_What's_ missing?"  
The dragon looked up baffled; then he smiled, wondering why she couldn't see it when it was so obvious. "The _Happy End_"  
Yerry just choked out a bitter laugh and turned her attention back to remove some snot from her hair.  
"I know that this is not _your_ story – not _actually_. ...well, actually it _is_, but – uh... you know what I mean. But the happy end of our story may be the beginning of a new story. – your own," Hank said and smiled tenderly at the Gryffindor. She looked up and raised a brow.  
"Oh – _what!_ That was just too cheesy. _Seriously_, Hank!"  
Both, the dragon and the supposed princess laughed lightheartedly – for the first time this day.  
"But – honestly – will you give it a try?" Hank titled his head. Eventually he let go of Yerry's dress.  
"We'll see." She flipped one last tiny piece of dirt out of her hair before she turned to walk back to the others.

xxx

„Ladies, I think it's time for a snack," Kenny suggested, rubbing his belly.  
Thelma threw him an evil glance – _probably_ – and said, "Think again, Ken." She turned her head – to face an old willow, but who cared? – and went on, "Yerry, it's okay if you don't want to kiss him. I'm sure we'll find another way." She smiled reassuringly and her friends were confidently that the willow appreciated it.  
"No, it's alright," Yerry told them, her voice calm. The others gazed at her, surprised, but no one dared to ask questions to not make her think again.

Grinning widely Cormac stood before Yerry in his shining armour, looking all like the perfect knight again. Yerry seemed a little uncomfortable, but she had made her choice and it had never been her style to back out of anything.  
Hank, Kenny, Thelma and Basi stood nearby and nobody noticed the whole village gathering around them, watching in anticipation. Everyone held their breaths as Cormac finally leaned in, slowly, to kiss Yerry.  
Their lips met tenderly and immediately everything went still again and the world drowned in a bright, white light.

xxx

There was the sound of loud laughter and clicking glasses in the Three Broomsticks. None of the wizards and witches took notice of the young, kissing pair in the middle of the pub. None, except a boy with a demanding stomach, a girl with something on her head that could have been mistaken for a living predator and a dreamingly smiling waitress.

The spell was broken and everything was back to normal. No man, no woman had any memory of the strange events that had played these past hours; though in this reality no time had passed at all.  
Yerry noticed the change in the noises around her and opened her eyes. She didn't break the magical kiss, however; Cormac, who too was back to his normal self and oblivious of the happenings in _Cliché-Ville_ had his arms draped around Yerry's shoulders and back and was pulling her close to him.  
"_Aww!_ That's so cute," Basi exclaimed happily and folded her hands over her chest. Her voice ended the moment and Cormac loosened his grip on Yerry.  
Blushing Yerry took a step back and bit her lower lip, shyly.  
The girl with whom Cormac had come to the Three Broomsticks was literally smoking in her seat. When nobody paid her any attention she got up and stormed to the door – stumbling over the bag of a tall, friendly man, who caught her before she could fall and hit the ground. "Are you okay?" He asked kindly and when she nodded, he smiled, offered his arm to the girl and said, "Good. Nice to meet you, by the way… My name is Hank."

Meanwhile Yerry had gathered herself again and dared to look up at Cormac. She found him giving her his famous '_I'm-the-jackpot-and-you're-the-lucky-winner_'-look, however he had no idea why he had suddenly been standing and kissing some other girl than the one he'd come here in the first place.  
Raising a single eyebrow Yerry crossed her arms in front of her chest and huffed, "Don't you kid yourself now!" Cormac dropped his cool exterior and looked bewildered and a little taken aback.  
Finally Yerry's features softened and she smiled, causing Cormac to relax visibly, too.

"I say, _this_ is a reason to celebrate. Butter Beer and Fire Whiskey on me!" Basi grinned and began to fill the glasses of several clueless, but joyous guests, including her own every now and then.  
"As if _she_ needs to kill more brain cells," Yerry muttered under her breath and shook her head.  
"Hey, uhm," Cormac stuttered, scratching the back of his head. "I wondered... would you like a date?" He grinned at her self-confidently as if he just offered her a trip to the heavens. Yerry stared at the boy boldly.  
"Do you even know my name, _Cormac_?" she asked; a sly smirk on her lips. Cormac blushed and even his ears took a deep shade of red. "I'm Yerry," she finally said, stretching out her hand and ending his torture.

A little apart Thelma shook her head desperately and mumbled, addressing no one in particular, "What a shame… I will certainly not endure a hyper-active narcissist all day. This is so ruining our perfect triple-thing"  
"What the heck are _you_ talking about?" Kenny gave her an alienated stare from the side. He took another bite from a pretzel stick, he'd found on a nearby table and murmured, "I don't know why you're so bitchy, anyway. It's not like you would actually _see_ him after all."

xxx

Maybe the dragon Does-Not-Much – _oh, sorry_ – maybe _Hank_ was right after all.  
Maybe the Happy End of one story is just the beginning of new one…

But as for now:

_**The End **_


End file.
